> Trixie is Confronted By Zlatan Ibrahimovic > by Skylarking the Stargazer > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Horses are Irrelevant > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a peaceful day in Equestria, tea sipping and chatterings were only fragments of what a beautiful life can offer in a twenty-four hour day. Smiles were naturally formed on everypony’s joyous faces. Sparrows chirped and blue jays twirp, hummingbirds beat their wings as they tasted the nectars of daylilies next to the fat and gorgeous honeybees. If that was not enough to surprise you, music could be heard through the deep bass of an earth pony violinist, or a unicorn’s bass drop before releasing her synth pads. A trio of fillies sang along with the music in their finest voices out of anypony’s imagination. Who wouldn’t want to enjoy high notes under little Miss Sunshine? But that all came to an end the next minute, because what was bound to happen was yet another catastrophe unseen by ponykind. An eruption of bloody red bursted from the faraway land of the Dragons, before landing on top of the Ponyville Town Hall, flattening it into thin pancake. Luckily, nopony was hurt. Mayor Mare returned just in time to fulfill herself the nightmare. A swarm of enormous winged creatures swallowed the village whole, seething away flames as they breathe. The Mane Six, known for their feat to save Equestria from the enemies’ hands dozens of times (thanks to their “power of friendship" and cute thingies like that blah blah blah), quickly rushed to the scene and end the menacing once and for all— “Oh just shut up and let us handle it!” Rarity looked up at the winged mare. “Rainbow Dash, who were you talking to?” The pegasus shook her head. “Uhhh, lets just... go save these townsfolk!” The other five nodded, and soon they separated to complete the task at their hooves. Fluttershy and Rarity made sure everypony were safe and guided them a route to escape. Twilight Sparkle and Applejack utilized their abilities to prevent any further damage done upon both the land and residents of Ponyville. The ones who were bold, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, chose to confront the destroyers and seek revenge once and for all. “Dragons? Why in Equestria would be you guys who attacked us? We thought your ruler Ember had it all covered!” The head of the dragon swarm, covered with deep crimson scales, cackled, “You think we would let you puny ponies humiliate us back to back? I’ve had enough of you inferior animals stopping us from doing whatever we want!” “Isn’t that Garble? He’s probably on crack.” Pinkie pointed to the dragon, couldn’t help but giggle. “Yeah, probably.” Rainbow followed as she choked with tears. “Crack, ohmygosh Pinkie, you’re amazing with your jokes!” Garble made eye contact with the rest of his herd, all of them shrugged in response. With a swipe of his claw, the two ponies were soon trapped in the leader’s harsh grasp. “SILENCE! If you dumb twigs seriously thought that was funny, then how would you like it if I threw you into the Pits of Hell?” “Pfft!” Pinkie snorted. “You’re really good at this mister, would I be burned?” She tittered and soon roared with laughter. No dragon, not even Rainbow Dash this time, dared to laugh. Furious, Garble exploded with red. He took Rainbow and Pinkie to the rest of the Mane Six, presenting them the hopeless situation. “Listen up, Princess Twilight Sparkly glittering girly stuff or whatever”— Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes Garble I’m listening, and I’m used to that crap everyday now…” — “If you try to pull off any of your horsey tricks on any one of us, by the end of today I will guarantee that your friends here won’t live to see tomorrow!” “Gosh darn it! They’ve got Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie!” Applejack cried. “What are we supposed to do now?” Fluttershy followed. The Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle, braced of any possible situations. She calmly replied to the dragon, “Fine. What are your demands in return to keep them safe?” One of Garble’s subordinates whispered to his ear. Snickering, the head of the dragon swarm finally opened his mouth. “Meet me at Grumble Volcano, before sunset.” “As you wish.” The dragon swarm roared as they flew off into the gleaming sun, their voices thundered through the now scarlet sky of hellish flames. Twilight sighed, slowly turning around to face the disappointed looks of her friends and everypony else. Involuntarily, she opened her mouth to speak, “I’m sorry, but... “ “There ain’t any need to apologize Twi’.” Applejack walked over and wrapped her hoof around the Alicorn. Everypony else nodded in agreement. “We know there was nothin’ you could’ve done better to keep them safe.” “No.” Everypony was confused. She sheepishly chuckled. “I was going to say, did he have any better name than ‘Grumble Volcano’?” The Red Devil crowd went roaring as the second goal was scored against Anderlecht by the young yet talented prodigy, Marcus Rashford. The score now was 2-1. Fireworks can be heard setting off in the background. You don’t have to guess its color when you know the match was played in Old Trafford. But you do have to guess when you realized this was just a replay of the highlights on The Daily Telegraph. Zlatan Ibrahimovic sighed as he looked down at his wrapped right knee. He can still feel the bent part haunting him the past few weeks even when he was asleep. It wasn’t a career-ending injury, that’s for sure, and he even underwent a successful surgery in the United States for recovery. But that Europa League match against the Belgian giant may perhaps be his last in the English Premier League season of 2017. He knew that there was no chance of winning the title against the likes of Manchester City, Chelsea or Tottenham Hotspur, so in order to qualify for the Champions League next year, he had to be in his top form in order to win the Europa League this year no matter what. “Zlatan can’t play for Manchester United at the moment, but in the future?” He wondered as he rubbed his injured knee. There were rumors spread all over the world that this might be his last and final game in Manchester United, but the Swede was not about to give up yet. He will make a comeback in the fall of next season to extend his legacy in the beautiful sport of football once and for all. RING RING RING! The Bob Marley song “One Love” could be heard on Zlatan’s bed. With a funny look, the #10 of the Sweden national football team picked up the call. A familiar voice could be heard through the phone, and Zlatan didn’t look too happy. “Olá Sr. Ibrahimovic.” Zlatan frowned. “Old man, Zlatan doesn’t speak Portuguese, but Portugal should learn to speak Swedish and Zlatan.” “Yeah, very well Sr. Ibrahimovic.” The voice grunted. “I’m here to talk to you about your future in the club.” The humor has now been put aside. The Swede’s face locked tight and was ready to face the harsh reality of his condition. “Go ahead” was enough to start the avalanche of dramatic words of emotions and terror. The voice coughed and cleared his throat. “Happy birthday.” The dumbest silence could be felt since Gennaro Gattuso slapped his face back when he was at Ajax. “Zlatan’s birthday is in October.” “Very well.” José Mourinho nodded on the other side of the call. “Considering your recent injury against Anderlecht, it may not fully recover until the beginning of next year. Therefore I might not guarantee you a spot next season.” Prepared for the incoming fire, the current striker for Manchester United calmly replied, “You haven’t seen Zlatan enough, Mou. Without Zlatan you wouldn’t win anything.” “Oh?” “Who you trying to count on asides Rashford to score goals? Old man Rooney and overrated Depay? Look at those other guys you got since van Gaal was sacked, and none of them even play their positions properly.” “Okay, maybe Pogba was not worth a hundred million, and Antony Martial along with Adnan Januzaj aren’t anything special since that World Cup three years ago...” Mourinho snorted. “But you know what’s the difference between the two of us when we retire as manager and player?” “What?” “Champions League.” “Don’t remind me.” “And we already won the Europa League against Ajax, those pesky Dutch kids can’t do anything if they keep playing with nineteen year olds and selling them the following year. All of this was done without you.” The Swede shrugged. “Okay?” “Furthermore, Sr. Ibrahimovic, I defeated Bayern Munich in the finals right after you left my Internazionale seven years ago; yet the mighty Barcelona of those years could not win anything once you arrived.” “So are you saying Zlatan is cancer?” “Cancer, maybe.” the Portuguese shook his head. “More that you’re just unfortunate and lacking potential to achieve anything.” “Like how you lack potential to form relationships with Real Madrid because Iker Casillas had to deal with you for three straight years?” “What was that?” “Zlatan said you can go suck Wenger’s Gunner pump.” “Child, get a Ballon d’Or first then come talk to me.” Ibrahimovic hung up the phone. Once more he sighed as he laid his head onto the pillow. That conversation was nowhere close to what he had expected, asides from insulting his manager, because that was pretty funny. It was almost as funny as when he sent Cristiano Ronaldo a plain white t-shirt on his twenty-ninth birthday. Right now though, he was at a total loss of how to even continue his life. Was it really the time for the thirty-five year old to retire? He had done so much for football that it was time to leave an everlasting legacy for the next generation to follow. Because in Zlatan’s unbiased and objective opinion, new players like Mbappé and Sané are easily promoted by the media and can rise to the top without dropping a single sweat. He had to inspire those youngsters to work harder and bring the sport back to life. The more Ibrahimovic thought about his future, the weary he grew. As the world around him began to fade into pitch black, he muttered the inspiring words that can even strike the heavens. “Damn who cares about those upcoming mofos from Africa? I’ll see how Zlatan’s people are doing with Zlatan’s arena. Stockholm’s so called ‘friends’ belong to Zlatan...” As the news of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie’s kidnapping spread across Equestria like wildfire, not everypony was able to receive the information during the outskirts of their pony community. Like seriously, who would bother to put a newspaper mailbox in the middle of nowhere? “The Great and Powerful Trixie is in the middle of nowhere.” The unicorn gloomily reminded herself as she slowly trotted down the lonely path of… Nowhere. “Trixie could not believe that ponies from Shavacago didn't appreciate her magic show, and they not only chased her out of town, but they destroyed Trixie’s only cart wagon where she resided in!” She broke down and cried, but nopony was around to hear her song of sorrow. She lied on the dirt road pitying herself. Because again, nopony cares. “Nopony cares about Trixie… NO PONY CARRRRRES!” “Oh my goodness what in the world is that cracked voice Zlatan’s hearing? It’s almost as loud as Ljungkvist’s fart against Järna SK… And got sent off the pitch for it.” Trixie immediately got up and growled at the unfamiliar voice. “So now when ponies talk negatively they come to compare The Great and Powerful Trixie’s mellifluous voice to passing gas?! How dare they—” She paused once she noticed the six foot five "stallion" standing on two hooves, towering over her entire body. Shocked to see a giant of such skyscraping size, the unicorn immediately backed off to avoid the potential threat. ‘T-T-Trixie sees the stallion with a giant mustache on his face. Ew!’ “Who might you be, little horse?” The giant leaned forward and bent his knees, although it still hurts like when he missed nine straight games back in Paris-Saint Germain. “You’ve came to the wrong place, since Zlatan never seen a creature like you before.” “W-what?!” Trixie jolted. “This is Equestria, a land inhabited by mostly ponies. And Trixie thinks you have arrived to the wrong place. Y-y-you… whatever you are, freak!” Zlatan Ibrahimovic observed the new place around him. Everything was at least ten times more colorful and saturated than back where he came from. Mother nature was undisturbed, and her scent was beyond anything he could’ve imagined on a blonde Swede chick. It was quiet, almost as quiet as when he silenced those Persian kids with two goals against Iran to accumulate the result 3-1. But it was only a friendly match so no one really cared anyway. “Indeed, you are right.” He finally spoke. “Finally some non-Equestrian creature has common sense of where they are—” “Equestria has arrived to the wrong person. Equestria doesn’t belong here with Zlatan.” Gaping her mouth, Trixie exploded with frustration and stormed away from the tall stranger. However, before landing on her first step, she froze in fear with a huge lump in her throat. “Oh no freaky giant, we have to get outta here, now!” Zlatan turned around, only to see a pack of menacing wolf-like creatures made out of solid wood. Each of them drooled, and the drops of their saliva onto the ground strengthened their nasty breath of hunger. Both Trixie and Zlatan held their noses in disgust. Now even more willing to escape, Trixie tugged the human’s hand to signal him. Coincidentally a fair sized rock rolled near Zlatan’s feet. Instead of running away, he picked the rock up and tossed it in midair. “These things are just made of twigs, right?” Trixie wasn’t sure what the man would do. “Y-yes, those creatures are called Timberwolves. They may be from tree debris, but that doesn’t mean they’re harmless—” Once the rock fell to a certain point, Zlatan sent it flying with a massive volley. The once ignored and irrelevant pebble has now became the perfect defense weapon for the newcomer in the world of quadrupedal legged animals. The rock darted through all the Timberwolves, decapitating them into tree debris. Dropping her jaw, Trixie was awestruck the insane stunt pulled off by the Swedish footballer as he turned around with his hands to his hips. “Then they’re nothing compared to Zlatan, only this time Zlatan didn’t feel like missing the shot.” “Unlike how Zlatan spared Hugo Lloyd and his spoiled France back in that Euro five years ago.” ‘Hugo Lloris?’ Trixie thought she misheard. “Trixie demands your history.” “So from what Trixie heard, your name is Zlatan Ibrahimovic, a professional athlete who ‘dominates’ in the sport called football.” “Indeed it is. How can you ponies not play such a wonderful game?” “Well buckball is a pretty common sport in Equestria, so Trixie believes that counts as something.” “Sounds like some child’s puppet show done in a bucket.” The human chuckled, Trixie sighed as they continued walking down the road of uncivilized wilderness. As they panted with sweat under the blazing sun, Trixie noticed the gleaming red attire Zlatan was wearing. “What is that number ‘9’ on the back of your shirt?” “Ah you mean this?” The Swede took off the red shirt and held it with his hands in front of the Trixie’s eyes. “This, is Zlatan’s football jersey, and the football jersey wears Zlatan for the honor.” “Do you know what you’re even saying?” “You seem like you know more than me.” “What? Trixie never said such thing—” “Do you play football?” “Um, not really?” “So why are you talking?” “Trixie’s just asking a question—” “And Zlatan tells the question to piss off.” Trixie cursed out loud. “Why is it so hard for The Great and Powerful Trixie to talk to someone with a third person attitude?!” “Replace any of those words with Zlatan and it will get better.” “ARGH!” The two have not shared a single word until midnight, when Trixie suggested a place for them to rest. Groaning at his operated right knee, Zlatan laid with his arms behind his head on a hollow tree log, gazing at the stars and trying to find a constellation of his own face. Trixie, on the other hand (or hoof), frowned at the mysterious man as she continued to protract the fire’s lifespan with a twig from the Timberwolf debris. “So, Blatant.” “It’s Zlatan silly horse.” “I’m a pony you stupid ape!” She let out a frustrated sigh. “Anyway, where are you from? Trixie has never seen a creature like you on Equestria before.” “Equestria is a fake place, Zlatan is in a dream after he fell asleep on his bed.” Trixie facehoofed. “You’re mentally challenged.” “Back to your question, Miss horse. Zlatan hails from the mighty country of Sweden. Once ruled the world before those greedy Russians robbed it all.” “Sweeten?” Trixie repeated with much doubt. “So your country makes sweet stuffs like candies?” “No, sweet stuffs and cheese bread are those annoying Danes. I sent them into retirement two years ago.” “Huh?” “My country is known for proud warriors and fighters since Beowulf and ‘Gustavo’s Ex’ who believed in their mother nation. But in return, that nation serves for Zlatan.” “You need to cut that stupid narcissism out. How does a whole country serve for one random person?” Trixie retorted. “Sweden is also known for the development in pop culture music, although Zlatan prefers reggae. Cheap pop musicians like Benny Andersson and Per Gessle are only second to me.” “Are there any other athletes from your country asides you?” “...” The awkward silence returned to haunt them. “No.” “You’re lying.” “Even if there were some tennis wannabes, they are nothing compared to Zlatan.” BJORN BOOOOOOORRRRRRG! Furious, Zlatan got up and roared at the rustling bushes. “WHOEVER DARES TO SPEAK THAT NAME WILL NEVER SEE DAYLIGHT AGAIN!” “Um Trixie is curious?” Zlatan shook his head. “Nothing, Zlatan was hearing things. They are as irrelevant as Diego Costa.” “You need to stop with those random non-pony names, Trixie is getting confused.” “Then that is good, ponies should not be intelligent as human beings.” Not being able to understand the human, Trixie slumped onto the grass. She, too, gazed into the stars in search for a constellation of herself. “Say Zlatan, are you a renowned sports star in your homeland?” “There is only one homeland that Zlatan resides in, you and your ‘Equestria’ are imaginary.” “Shut up and answer my question.” Zlatan chuckled. “Yeah, if anyone watches football, they got to know who I am. I have done so much for the sport that drew the attention of many people. Everytime I step out of the stadium. fans would come to ask me to sign them my autograph.” “Wow.” Trixie replied without turning her head, but the human knew she was impressed. “What makes you so special compared to any other player?” Zlatan once again took off his burning red United jersey (much to Trixie’s disgust after she got up), he flipped it around before holding it into the air. He couldn’t help but give his jersey a tiny grin before redressing himself. “I make the game beautiful. The goals I scored can never be replicated by any other players. Once the martial art Taekwondo recognized my name and not Anthony Martial, it now belongs to my blood. I was able to utilize it on the pitch every time, even without my black belt earned at a young age of seventeen.” “And unlike those fake players and managers being interviewed, Zlatan acknowledges himself as the best player ever to kick the ball.” “Wow…” Trixie’s eyes gleamed with fascination. “But Zlatan’s past wasn’t the best. My parents divorced when I was a mere toddler. I then lived in a mediocre neighborhood called Rosengård, a community populated with immigrants including my parents. Later in school I became a thief of bicycles and bullying. ” Trixie asked. “Then how were you able to reach to the current status you’re in right now?” “Although I had a bad reputation from peers and other fellow Europeans were aware of the notoriety in my neighborhood, considering it was a central district in the city of Malmö; I was an exceptional athlete in school, with full of potential. I’m tall, agile, strong and anything you can name to fit in this global sport called football. No matter how many times people jeered at me, I kept working towards what I wished to become, and years after I was the man everyone love.” The unicorn scratched her chin. “So you were able to climb to the top because you believed in yourself?” Zlatan nodded with a smile. “Indeed it is!” Even after hearing his brilliant and inspiring words, Trixie sighed in grief and took down her personal magician costume. The hat, designed with colorful stars of numerous sizes, was shaded violet in the background. Puzzled by her actions, the Swede reached out his hand to examine the object. He soon took notice (for the first time) of the downhearted blue mare kicking away the grass with her hooves. “Zlatan’s guessing that you must be a wizard or a magician, considering that you’ve got a tattoo on your backside.” Trixie glanced down at her flank. “Oh you mean this? It’s called a cutie mark” — Facepalming, Zlatan grumbled. “I swear everything here is too girly-friendly. Helena would definitely bring Max and Vincent over if this world is for real.” — “And yes, a cutie mark defines the special talent that a pony possesses. Based on the image of the mark, it should be obvious right away.” Trixie’s depressing frown soon returned. “But with me, I considered myself to be a great and powerful magician— Illusionist is a better word, since I barely know any magic spells.” Zlatan scratched his chin. “Ibracadabra?” — Trixie shot him a glare — “Messi makes pretty nice illusions on the pitch too with his dribbling.” ”But my secret is: I never succeeded. Every show in a particular town, I ended up being booted out. Everywhere I went I wasn’t welcomed at all.” “Why is that?” Zlatan asked. “Because I am not talented! I don’t have any magics to perform on stage asides a couple of ropes and basic objects that any unicorn can use. There are no true colors for me to show to anypony—” “Okay.” Crickets chirped in response. Trixie exasperated a long and painful sigh. “Trixie’s trying to get her feelings across a conversation and yet you just barge in without a flying feather!” “I didn’t say this was a conversation, did I say you can talk?” The mare stretched her face. “Since when was Trixie your subordinate?!” BJORN BOOOOOORRRRRRRG! BJORN BOOOOOORRRRRRRG! Gritting his teeth, the Swede rose up from the ground in seething rage. Before he was able to show his might, a large shadow emerged from the nearby bushes before revealing himself in the fiery fireplace. “A dragon!” Trixie exclaimed as she hurriedly scuttled backwards. “So you managed to figure out where I am, but it doesn’t matter regardless.” The green scaly dragon licked his lips. He was at least a head taller than Zlatan, but the Sagokungar himself feared none of the lizard’s disquiet presence. “My name is Nick, because I snicker a lot." More cricket chirps followed, and the next five minutes was a lack of progress for anything. "Oh... How nice." Trixie mouthed. "And it seems you two have ventured far too close to the borders of the Dragon Lands. Any foreign species must be removed or else...” Nick revealed his blade sharp claws and bared his razor sharp teeth, followed by smoke escaping his mouth. Horrified, Trixie dashed right behind Zlatan’s back. She never stopped her shivering as she stared at the natural-born lethal weapon waving his claws in a repeated motion. However, the Swede began to roar in laughter. “Nick? Like really? Such a typical name for some uncultured being like you. Even Guardiola would’ve been a better name!” “Uh, guacamole?” Both the human and the pony smacked their heads. “Okay, I don’t really like Guardiola anyway, he was like Francisco Franco ordering me around on how I should play. It’s like you bought a Ferrari and drove it like a Fiat.” Nick scratched his head, proceeding to shake it off. “Whatever! At least I knew that was an insult to a dragon’s honor, now prepare to die!” With that said, Nick bolted from his standing spot and was ready to strike the two invaders down. Shoving Trixie aside, the descendant of the Geats tossed a couple of pebbles into the air, before dealing a blow to the wrathful beast with an instep kick — the typical kick used for shooting the football — into his head. Nick rolled over into a giant tree and released a war cry into the sky (although no one actually heard him). Before he can pick himself back up, he was met with a giant foot smearing his face across the dirt. “Oh sorry, Zlatan just needed to clean his cleats. Otherwise he would have to sue Nike for dirtying his feet...” He paused. “Wait.. I was wearing cleats?” “FÖR FAN I HELVETE!” Nick abruptly got up, knocking Zlatan over onto the ground. “You’re a pony from the Gotlands?” The Swede picked himself up and ousted the dust off his jersey. “Do I look like a horse to you?” — “PONIES ARE NOT HORSES FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE!” Trixie yelled from the side. — “Also, I’m from Malmö, which is literally on the other damn side of Gotland. Learn to recognize my nation's geography you stupid drake. And stop saying Björn Borg, I'm a much capable athlete than him, although he is kinda cool.” Zlatan looked down. “But seriously, I can’t believe I forgot to change off my cleats, now they’re all dirty and disgusting.” “BJORN BOOOOOOOOOOORG!” Nick released his cry as he soared into the sky, preparing to emit a giant ball of flame onto the grasslands. “Now it’s time to accept your fate, Gotland punk!” Zlatan turned back to Trixie. “Can I kill him now?” “Uh,” Trixie rolled her eyes and sighed, “yes?” “Was Zlatan asking you? Puny ponies should learn to ask for permission to open their ugly looking mouths.” Trixie repeatedly shook her head. “WHAT?!” “BJORN BOOOOOOOOOOORG!” Nick cried out one last time before releasing his ultimate technique of mass destruction. Not sure of what to do, Zlatan hesitated in place, but he knew one thing: a proud warrior and athlete like him should never back down from the faces of defeat. “ZLATAN!” A purple aura surrounded the fireball as both the Swede and Nick gawked at the epic save. Gritting her teeth and sweating from her forehead, Trixie managed to hold the flames right behind Zlatan (right before it could spread through the forestland) with her magic. Shrugging, Zlatan Ibrahimovic delivered the burning present right back at Nick with a casual flick of his right heel. “Grattis på födelsedagen, amigo!” Nick just remained in midair, silently watching as the fireball came right back at him. “Uh, can I go home now?” “I almost forgot to realize that you were a unicorn this whole time.” Zlatan laughed as they continued their journey to nowhere, but thanks to Nick (who was burned to ashes by the way), they were aware of approaching the Dragon Lands. “Thanks for that save, Gianluigi Buffon, otherwise I would’ve conceded the goal of a lifetime.” Trixie looked up at the human. “What do you mean ‘goal of a lifetime’?” “The fireball that stupid lizard had reminded me of a football. If the ball hit me, I would’ve died instantly. It’s like when a football team concedes a goal with the ball in its net, if that happens without scoring a goal back, they lose.” “Is it really that intense? I mean Trixie never admired sports and athletics, but when I saved Equestria with Starlight and others there was a lot of running involved. I do get that sort of rush of feelings surging up my chest.” “Football is the greatest sport in the world, the emotions, the drama, everything surrounding the ball is part of the game. The winners triumph, the losers fall, but every team and player has plenty of opportunities to prove themselves as the world’s greatest footballer of their generation.” “But to achieve such aesthetics and be commended by the public, you need to have the competitive spirit. You may have teammates that you can rely on to score a goal or defend your own, but in the end you must always overcome yourself. Always play until the final minute, because that’s when even miracles are bound to happen.” Trixie bit her lips. “That’s what I lack.” Zlatan was confounded. “What do you mean?” “Ever since Trixie left home to live independently, the only thing she could do was earn money through cheap magic illusions.” “I’ve been doing this for years, and resulted in only kicks than applauses. I didn’t want anypony to see that I’m a failure, so I started promoting myself through bragging and boasting in public; yet even then the current Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle, stopped me twice from overtaking the mindsets of other ponies.” “And so I abandoned my old wicked ways of tyranny, and began to attempt on real world illusions that can captivate just about any audience. My good friend Starlight Glimmer helped me successfully perform the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive at the last second, lest I was prepared for a ridiculous suicide after nearly destroying my friendship with her.” Zlatan rubbed his chin. “Friends huh? I still remember that stalker Maxwell trying to join me four times since 2001, thank goodness I ditched him by firing Ligue 1 and purchasing the average English league.” Trixie furrowed her brow. “You mean you left your old team and joined a new one?” “I came to Paris Saint-Germain like a king, and left like a legend.” Trixie smacked her face. “Anyway, I suffered through a lot, and after hearing your epic story of climbing to the top, I felt even more discouraged. Trixie was never that pony who would work hard to make a huge accomplishment or anything. All I did, was ran my mouth through all odds and left the scene like a coward. Only shame and disgrace was Trixie hung about.” “If I were gone, there probably wouldn’t be any difference. Who needs a clumsy and unwanted illusionist like me who can’t even perform properly on stage? Which was why I abandoned the ‘Great and Powerful’ title—” She heard the human stop in track, and without turning around, Zlatan told her, “Pony, feel Zlatan’s calves right now.” Doing as the Swede told, Trixie reached her hoof to sink into Zlatan’s human skin. With a gasp she opened her eyes, immediately letting go. “I-i-it’s hard! Like really hard!” “You know how long it took Zlatan to master such physical feat? Decades of playing football… Okay maybe not decades but years of training in club camps, and facing formidable adversaries like Roberto Carlos, Nesta or Shevchenko…” Zlatan then paused. “Who do you admire in life?” Trixie looked up. “Hoofdini.” “Well I don’t admire Maldini that much—” “HOOF, DINI!” Trixie snapped. “The one and only magician who inspired me to perform the Moonshot Manticore Mouth Dive.” “Ohhhhh." Zlatan snapped his fingers. "Well back to what I was saying, even the best player in the world Zlatan Ibrahimovic has an idol, and his name is Ronaldo Nazário de Lima, also known as El Fenômeno.” He then grumbled, “And not that diver and crybaby Cristiano Ronaldo.” “Ronaldo was absolutely unstoppable during his era of football. If I played during his time period, I would be first… along with him that is.” “His fast paced dribbling techniques, despite bearing a massive body that can’t be blocked through sheer physical force, has taken down numerous goalkeepers and dropped defenders on the floor.” “During his prime, Ronaldo won three FIFA World Player of the Year awards, two Ballon d’Ors, and the most important football tournament of all time: the World Cup. Ronaldo managed to win it twice within eight years. All of these feats were not accomplished by Zlatan, yet.” “I have failed many times in my career, not being able to win any World Cups nor Champions League titles. Even in my current team the manager wanted to get rid of me.” “Not even you were able to win any trophies?” Trixie was shocked. “Quiet pony.” Trixie cursed into the celestial heavens above, until a bird pooped on her face. “But in spite of countless failures, because of Zlatan’s awesomeness and II Fenomeno’s influence on him, Zlatan was able to gain one thing that every player wished to have: respect.” “The way I score goals with my mastery of the Taekwondo cannot be replicated by anyone else. The way I talk, I speak nothing but the truth, whether that be players, managers, audience, fans, reporters, and of course, Zlatan himself. I do not need a trophy to tell myself that I am the best.” “But blue unicorn, you know how long it took me to get all of that?” “Y-y-years?” “Indeed, but once you can hold on to the right rope and never let go; not even the steepest mountain will make you fall. Eventually as you keep climbing, the Everest Peak will be yours.” “Where do I get that confidence then?” Trixie asked. “How am I supposed to gain such positive reception from other ponies?” Zlatan waddled his index finger, a resemblance to his Brazilian idol. “No man will respect you if you don’t respect yourself first. One man must have the faith to believe and embrace what he truly loves.” Trixie could not help but reflect upon the proud Swede’s words as they walked towards a titanic volcano. The sun’s blazing rays burned her back, but she was no longer afraid to fail again. The spiritual aura around Trixie vanished as soon as she realized the giant beasts watching her and Zlatan from a visible distance away. None of them wore a welcoming smile on their faces. Yet, after standing so tall along with this great warrior for so— barely two days, the mare hadn’t the need to tremble anymore. “Who are these ugly teenage kids?” Zlatan spoke while never turning his head around, he can only see what’s ahead of him, and anything else was deemed irrelevant. Aware of the disrespect, the furious dragons were agonized. “Wait what?” Trixie scratched her head while the dragons suddenly backed off. “Why are they leaving all of a sudden.” “Noooo! He’s too awesome!” “His spirit is immense, his aura is beyond the boiling temperatures of magma!” “I feel like an insect just looking at him... yet he never eyed at us… oh hey, nice mustache by the way.” One dragon tripped over and injured himself on the rough ground. Fearing for his life, he pointed his claw at the walking giant. “Y-y-y-you! W-w-what’s your name! Whoever you are, you’re even able to take the toughest dragons down and strike fear down our throats!” The Swede shrugged as he approached the fallen winged creature. He raised one leg and landed on the dragon’s scaly skin with his cleat, intensely shuffling back and forth. “Shoe cleaners should stop talking and let God speak.” “G-g-god?” The dragon was now terrified. “W-w-who might that b-b-b-be?” “You’re talking to him right now.” Everyone witnessing Zlatan’s first ever confrontation with a dragon were dumbfounded. With the exception of Trixie, who rolled her eyes. Eventually, a crimson skinned dragon walked over to the human with a prompted face. He was definitely displeased with the situation here. “How are you fools so useless?! We as the toughest living species are afraid of one giant walking stick and a puny unicorn?” Trixie flinched. “They were afraid of me?” Every dragon turned their head towards the unicorn. Waves of laughter were heard breaking the sky. “Orrrrr maybe not.” “Listen punk,” Garble stomped towards Zlatan Ibrahimovic with a scepter in his claws. “Whoever the heck you think you are, but you don’t come around and start messing with the most feared species of Equestria—” “Again kid, you’re now talking to the most feared being on the face of reality.” Everyone dropped their jaws, none of them budged a muscle, probably even forgot to breathe at some point. What mattered was, that the human just dissed the “new” Dragon Lord, Garble, who was now erupting with flying sparks in his eyes. Nevertheless, he grinned and snapped his claws. A trio of dragons each carried a tied up Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Ember, and tossed them onto the ground. Trixie was shocked once she noticed the former Dragon Lord overpowered by her subordinates. “I heard from Starlight that you ruled over the Dragon Land, but how did this happen?” Grunting, Ember managed to respond, “When I was ready to investigate a foreign land, Garble’s friends ambushed me while he went to steal my scepter!” Everypony gasped, until Rainbow Dash cracked up. “Well I hate to say it, but you made a pretty dumb move leaving your scepter behind.” “Hey, I’m new to this Dragon Lord thing okay?” “It’s been one whole season since you’ve became one Ember which is approximately a year," Pinkie followed, "so you should’ve gotten used to it by now.” An awkward silence filled everyone’s head. Blushing, Ember growled before burying her head into the ground. “Gotland punk, what is your name?” Garble asked forcefully, pointing his claw at Zlatan. The exasperated Swede sighed. “The name, is Zlatan Ibrahimovic, and if you kids continue to insult my birthplace based on my accent, I’ll make you regret seeing tomorrow.” “Ha! Tough talk, Gotland fool!” With a toe kick, Zlatan sent Garble flying through the air. The crowd circling the two went silent once more (Garble’s jaw break and everyone else’s jaw drops). Smeared with dust after he rolled across the lava plate, the Dragon Lord grabbed the scepter and petrifyingly pointed at the captured hostages. “L-l-listen, Z-z-zlatan Ibrahimovic! You and I will have a showdown at the peak of Grumble Volcano, which is right behind me!” Everyone gazed at the monstrous size of the volcano, topping at least fifteen thousand feet, spits of lava erupted from Grumble’s mouthole. Pieces of lava rocks tumbled down the mountain, before falling into the boiling red river that created a boundary between the human and the ambitious dragon. “You must do as I say, or those hostages will be dealt with first in the Pits of Hell!” "Um," one dragon raised his claws to ask, "what exactly are the Pits of Hell?" Every dragon nodded, including Ember. Turning his back, Garble sweated and shivered. "I-it's somewhere in our lands, but I just happened to forget its location. A-anyway, Zlatan! My name is—" “Yeah big deal, I don’t even want to hear your name, probably worse than a Nick.” Zlatan walked away, waving his hand without ever turning back. “I’m thirty-five years old, too old to get into anymore physical consequences, otherwise old man Mourinho’s definitely not giving me another contract. Let’s go home pony.” With a nod, Trixie tried her best to ignore the ferocious presence of the dragons as she followed the Swede along. The two acquaintances walked down the flaming sun, which no dragon even dared to look at. “Well then,” Garble grinned devilishly, “Not only have you disrespected me twice, Zlatan, but you also killed one of our comrades. I guess it’s time to fulfill our contract. Toss the ponies and Ember into the lava!” “But Garble—” “It’s Lord Garble to you, imbeciles! Now take them to the Pits of Hell—” “An Alicorn Princess is here!” Twilight blinked, her face flushed red. “So size really doesn’t help hide me because of my wings, right?” She rolled her eyes and teleported her friends and herself back to Ponyville, along with the dragon scepter. “No! My scepter! The only thing that keeps me powerful as the Dragon Lord!” Garble pretended to reach for the object, even though it was gone and every dragon else awkwardly stared at him. Now infuriated, Garble slammed his fist onto the volcanic plate, crumbling a huge piece of it. He picked it up and roared into the sky. “If I know one son of a bi—” “Keep it PG will ya?” “— son of a biscuit eater who ruined my glorious day of taking over those darn ponies and ruling Equestria as the Dragon Lord, it’s that annoying prick who kicked me in my chin before dissing me from his back: the so called Zlatan Ibrahimovic!” “They don’t call me Joe Hart for nothing!” Every dragon was puzzled by that, well, non-dragon name. Regardless Garble bellowed as he released the giant piece of volcanic rock off his claws, towards the “strong hoofed Gotland pony”. “I never believed a word you said at first, Zlatan, but now that you’ve talked so much about the sport of football. I can’t wait to return to Sunset’s world and learn about it more!” Twilight eagerly raised her forelegs. The Mane Six, Spike, Starlight Glimmer, Ember, Trixie, and Zlatan Ibrahimovic are now in Ponyville chatting about… Well the human was constantly boasting his feats so the ponies were kinda forced to show their respect in due towards his heroic deeds. Zlatan replied, “Heh, winning and besting are just few of the things Zlatan lives to tell the tale. They are part of Zlatan’s body functions, he just naturally breathes victory.” Trixie rolled her eyes and pushed the human away. “So what exactly did we do to save Equestria again? We just walked away and now the three hostages are freed.” Starlight stepped in and opened a booklet. “According to the Equestrian Doctrine For Civilized Ponies Excluding Spike, by whom if the victim is free of any external threats, that pony shall be known as a knight... ” She squinted her eyes at the long essay of explanation. She frowned. “To put it short, heroes and heroines can be deemed as the way they are if they buy enough time for the refugees to evacuate; by which you, Trixie, and Mr. Ibrahimovic have accomplished with success because you caught the dragons off guard and Twilight was able to send the hostages here safely.” Zlatan scratched his head. “Uh okay? I don’t even know what I did, but all I know was that Zlatan is above all.” Empress Ember clenched the scepter in her claws and smiled at Zlatan. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. Not only have you saved me me and my friends, but you also gave me another chance to reform the corruption ongoing in the Dragon Lands. We as dragons are generally considered to be very hostile and aggressive, so it’s my responsibility to establish peace with other races of Equestria.“ At least that was what everypony had in mind before she actually spoke... “As the mighty Dragon Lord, Ember, I felt reassured after leaving Garble and those nasty and inferior subordinates of mine.” “Well -” Zlatan cleaned his ears, leaving everypony uncomfortable “- this is the last time I want to see your people then. Dragons are worse than my people’s traditional myths have imagined. Not only are you guys aggressive, but you also talk more than you can fight.” Ember emitted purple flames from her mouth. “Are you calling us weak?!!” This time it was for real. Starlight and Twilight stepped in and pushed the two away from each other. “Alright you both, we just had everyone back in their place and we don’t want to start another conflict.” Rainbow Dash flew in front of Zlatan… Well Zlatan’s waist at least since he was nearly twice as tall as the pegasus. Doesn’t really matter because Zlatan knows she’s looking up to him. “Hey Zlatan, just want you to know, you saved me and my friends’ life, and I can never forget your awesomeness and butt-kicking those dragons!” He responded to her gratitude with a smile. “Självklart. It’s what Zlatan does everyday.” Twilight tapped her chin. “Honestly now that you’ve said it, Starlight, Zlatan really didn’t do anything special to confront the dragons. He just distracted them and indirectly helping me coincidentally at the right time.” Everyone shot a look of suspicion at the human. Scratching his head, Zlatan grabbed Spike and gave him an aerial volley, and sent the baby drake flying straight into Yakyakistan. Everyone around him dropped their jaws again. Their pupils never left the renowned player. He simply shrugged and walked away for no particular reason. “Zlatan doesn’t do auditions, but since you inferior horse skulls won’t believe me like Arsenal Wenger not believing he will lose the Premier League. I did what I had to do.” “Well then-” Trixie smirked “-I’ll be off too, see you later Starlight!” Just now, an enormous shadow swallowed the entire Ponyville, again, but this time it was something else destructive that made the entire town population fleeing for their lives: a titanic sized volcanic plate hurling at least— “Three thousand six hundred ninety-one point twosevenfiveonefourfourfourfour and repeating miles per hour, got it!” Twilight beamed, ignoring the tip of the volcanic plate that was heading towards Zlatan. Just then, the Swede stepped onto a banana peel, causing him to slip. In some Pinkie physics logic he was able to lift his right leg upwards without any friction or awkward position that may seem uncouth. The impact he unintentionally dealt to the incoming volcanic rock with his leg was so great that it caused the object to crack halfway. His whole body flipped at least one-eighty, and still it spun onwards until he was back up on his feet again. “Whoa! Didn’t call for that haha!” Zlatan laughed as he stumbled back. Once again, everypony in the entire town stared at the human in an unimaginable way, even Trixie, who saw Zlatan’s incredible stunts again and again. But for some reason the #10 for his national team just wouldn’t stop performing for her. “What?” Zlatan threw his hand away. “It was just a bicycle kick, nothing new. If it was me, I’d say the first goal, because it was a historic goal - the first goal in the new arena.” By now no one had noticed the gigantic plate going in the reverse direction. A melting hour for the dragons after their humiliation, Garble and his friend (or his so called “defender”)  were walking back to the throne of the Dragon Lord. Everything was going pretty normal, until a familiar object was soaring through the sky. Garble’s eyes pointed up, and continued walking back to the throne. Just as he was about to reach for the seat, however, he flinched under the enormous shadow swallowing him whole. They gulped, and were ready to make a run for it. Seeing a giant cave in the mountains ahead of them, both dragons reached out for its edge with their claws. While the former Dragon Lord himself was too slow (he thought jogging was enough to save his flank), Garble’s defender barely made to the cave, but the rock got there a split second before him. The impact and damage were enough to send the two all the way down into the actual “Pits of Hell”. Groaning, Garble slapped his own face as they accepted their ultimate fate. “Ugh karma is soooooo stupid.” “Mom?” His friend yelled, “I’m hungry!” “Anything that happens in your life was meant to happen. It is your destiny. I was destined to have the life I have now, and I can’t have any regrets.” The Mane Six, Starlight Glimmer and Trixie awkwardly looked at one another. “Um, Mr. Ibrahimovic?” Fluttershy spoke up, “We didn’t say anything yet.” “Ehhhh…” The Swede hesitated. “I still haven’t finished my motivational speech to Trixie yet, we were interrupted by those dragons... so yeah can I leave now?” “No, we must repay you with something at least.” Twilight said, followed by the noddings of her friends and mentor, “How many bits do you want?” “How about a party? How about Zlatan-headed balloons? A football? Free ticket to the upcoming Gala? Candies? Sweets? Swedish Fish?” Pinkie Pie joined in as she hopped and cartwheeled around Zlatan, before popping in front of his face. Not impressed nor surprised, the human made a mocking gesture. “If anything, the children of Equestria should be giving me even more money for having the privilege of being in the same world as my incredible quality. And so should David Beckham. Call it a Zlaritable donation.” “Wait! The Great and Powerful Zlatan!” Trixie reached for the farewelling man with her hoof. Everypony was shocked to hear the title relinquished to someone else asides the illusionist herself. “There’s so much I need to learn from you: all the courage, the optimism, the determination, and the ethics you had to strive for the best! How is somepony like me ever going to turn my world upside down?” Everypony awaited for the heart melting response from the non-Equestrian hero. Yawning, he sat down on the ground and put himself into sleeping position. The world of “horses” began to crumble behind him. Trembling, the ponies attempted to signal the sleeping athlete, but it was too late. “Like I said, Equestria is a fake place. It does not belong here with Zlatan.” He closed his eyes. Everything turned off like a pitch black TV screen. It was Tuesday, the 17th of July in the year of 2017. Zlatan Ibrahimovic woke up and let out a yawn. He got up and did his morning routine, which was definitely not brushing his teeth and cleaning himself. It was deadlifting, bar squatting, bench pressing, and of course, the split stance push press. All of these were accounted inside the Swede’s mind as he outdone himself over and over. “I think I’m like wine. The older I get, the better I get.” “But that horse dream was still stupid though.” RING RING RING! The Geat warrior could never resist Bob Marley, and the ringtone’s smooth grooves never bored him once. “Hello hello? This is the one and only Ferrari Ibrahimovic—” Zlatan stopped cold, he soon shivered and fretted. The call came from none other than his manager and boss, José Mourinho. From his stoic silence, the Swede knew the Portuguese wasn’t too pleased with his behavior just now. “Well, if it isn’t Sr. Ibrahimovic?” He responded. “But don’t worry, after talking it out with your agent, we have everything in check.” Sighing in relief, the Swede continued with his antics. “So you just have retrieve me like a petrol tank before stepping on the gas, and that’s how we vroom!” “Congratulations Zlatan Ibrahimovic, based on the success of your knee surgery, and our plan to fetch Lukaku because that stubborn headed not-worth-one-hundred-million-Euro Pogba was so eager to want him; you no longer have to worry about your conditions in the future of Manchester United.” Zlatan heaved another sigh of relief. His grin slowly widened. He couldn’t resist the eager to return to Old Trafford and bring terror onto the pitch once more. “You’re now a free agent.” The call was hung up. Tilting his head, Zlatan slowly turned around to meet the fourth wall. “Wha…?”